the shirt to make sure her mother would see her.
“I have no doubt your mother will see you,” Morgan said. “No doubt at all.”
The week dragged on so slowly, Skye began to think she was in some kind of science fiction nightmare where time-warp aliens tortured the earthling teens by morphing every second into an hour. All week long, Skye keptgawking at her watch, hoping with her whole heart that it would suddenly become Saturday at 11 a.m.
Finally, Saturday morning did arrive in a hot and humid package, and at 11:03 am the Chambers family pulled into the parking lot adjoining the picnic pavilions at the Matunga State Park.
“Wow,” Skye said, “look how full it is!”
“I’m not surprised,” Mrs. Chambers said. “School starts in a few weeks, so everyone’s trying to get their last-minute summer fun in.”
Her chest booming, Skye rolled down the cab window, stretched her neck, and scanned the row of picnic tables along the road. As Mr. Chambers parked the truck in one of the few open stalls, Skye’s glance darted wildly, examining every pavilion and table for the color red. Mrs. Chambers and Morgan were doing the same. Skye spotted several red shirts, but children claimed them all.
“I hope she’s already here,” Morgan said. “As jam packed as this place is, I bet there aren’t any tables left.”
“We might have to eat lunch in the truck,” Mr. Chambers said to his wife. “But your ham salad sandwiches would even taste good in the barn! It doesn’t matter to me where we eat them.”
Skye had no interest in food whatsoever. “Can we get out and look?”
“Of course,” Mrs. Chambers said. “Tom, try to find an empty—”
“Over there!” Skye yelled. “Look! At the table next to the wooden bridge! I see a plump lady in a red shirt and blue jeans. It looks like she has long, dark hair, and she has it pulled up into some kind of twisted knob. She’s sitting at a table by herself, and her back’s to us. I bet she’s doing that because she’s still running scared.”
“I see her,” Mrs. Chambers said. “You might be right, Skye. She probably doesn’t want to be facing all these people.”
“That must be her!” Skye opened the door and jumped out. “Let’s go!”
“Just hang on a minute,” Mrs. Chambers said, getting out of the car. “We’ll all go together. Wait until Tom gets Morgan into her chair.”
Skye did double time raking her hands through her hair and chewing her lip. “Okay, okay, what can I do to get us there faster?”
“Nothing, Skye,” Mr. Chambers said. “We’ll leave the cooler in the back of the truck until later.” Mr. Chambers hopped out of the truck and retrieved Morgan’s wheelchair from the back of the cab. “If that woman isn’t your mother, we’ll grab the nearest vacant table.” He set the chair firmly on the macadam pathway and placed Morgan in it.
“Thanks, Mr. C.,” Morgan said then she glanced at Skye and giggled. “Why, Sis, your face is as red as that shirt. You’re not too excited, are you?”
Focused on the stranger, Skye had completely tuned out the last few seconds of conversation. She turned, reached behind the cab, and lifted the cooler out of the flatbed.
“Skye,” Mr. Chambers said. “We’re not taking that with us now. You have enough on your mind.”
Skye turned and started hurrying toward the bridge. “Let’s go,” she said again. Glancing back, she gestured for her family to hurry. “C’mon.”
Mrs. Chambers started pushing Morgan toward the bridge and chuckled. “Something tells me Skye wants us to follow her.”
“Let’s go, Mr. and Mrs. C.,” Morgan said. “That girl is going absolutely bonkers.”
Skye had trouble keeping her legs from running full speed ahead toward the bridge. She glanced back, reassuring herself that the rest of her family was following as best as they could. But just several yards from her goal,Skye came to an abrupt stop. Huffing, she studied the woman’s hair,
“I have no doubt your mother will see you,” Morgan said. “No doubt at all.”
The week dragged on so slowly, Skye began to think she was in some kind of science fiction nightmare where time-warp aliens tortured the earthling teens by morphing every second into an hour. All week long, Skye keptgawking at her watch, hoping with her whole heart that it would suddenly become Saturday at 11 a.m.
Finally, Saturday morning did arrive in a hot and humid package, and at 11:03 am the Chambers family pulled into the parking lot adjoining the picnic pavilions at the Matunga State Park.
“Wow,” Skye said, “look how full it is!”
“I’m not surprised,” Mrs. Chambers said. “School starts in a few weeks, so everyone’s trying to get their last-minute summer fun in.”
Her chest booming, Skye rolled down the cab window, stretched her neck, and scanned the row of picnic tables along the road. As Mr. Chambers parked the truck in one of the few open stalls, Skye’s glance darted wildly, examining every pavilion and table for the color red. Mrs. Chambers and Morgan were doing the same. Skye spotted several red shirts, but children claimed them all.
“I hope she’s already here,” Morgan said. “As jam packed as this place is, I bet there aren’t any tables left.”
“We might have to eat lunch in the truck,” Mr. Chambers said to his wife. “But your ham salad sandwiches would even taste good in the barn! It doesn’t matter to me where we eat them.”
Skye had no interest in food whatsoever. “Can we get out and look?”
“Of course,” Mrs. Chambers said. “Tom, try to find an empty—”
“Over there!” Skye yelled. “Look! At the table next to the wooden bridge! I see a plump lady in a red shirt and blue jeans. It looks like she has long, dark hair, and she has it pulled up into some kind of twisted knob. She’s sitting at a table by herself, and her back’s to us. I bet she’s doing that because she’s still running scared.”
“I see her,” Mrs. Chambers said. “You might be right, Skye. She probably doesn’t want to be facing all these people.”
“That must be her!” Skye opened the door and jumped out. “Let’s go!”
“Just hang on a minute,” Mrs. Chambers said, getting out of the car. “We’ll all go together. Wait until Tom gets Morgan into her chair.”
Skye did double time raking her hands through her hair and chewing her lip. “Okay, okay, what can I do to get us there faster?”
“Nothing, Skye,” Mr. Chambers said. “We’ll leave the cooler in the back of the truck until later.” Mr. Chambers hopped out of the truck and retrieved Morgan’s wheelchair from the back of the cab. “If that woman isn’t your mother, we’ll grab the nearest vacant table.” He set the chair firmly on the macadam pathway and placed Morgan in it.
“Thanks, Mr. C.,” Morgan said then she glanced at Skye and giggled. “Why, Sis, your face is as red as that shirt. You’re not too excited, are you?”
Focused on the stranger, Skye had completely tuned out the last few seconds of conversation. She turned, reached behind the cab, and lifted the cooler out of the flatbed.
“Skye,” Mr. Chambers said. “We’re not taking that with us now. You have enough on your mind.”
Skye turned and started hurrying toward the bridge. “Let’s go,” she said again. Glancing back, she gestured for her family to hurry. “C’mon.”
Mrs. Chambers started pushing Morgan toward the bridge and chuckled. “Something tells me Skye wants us to follow her.”
“Let’s go, Mr. and Mrs. C.,” Morgan said. “That girl is going absolutely bonkers.”
Skye had trouble keeping her legs from running full speed ahead toward the bridge. She glanced back, reassuring herself that the rest of her family was following as best as they could. But just several yards from her goal,Skye came to an abrupt stop. Huffing, she studied the woman’s hair,
Similar Books
